The Morning After
by kaze-rie
Summary: Derek Morgan has to face an unexpected situation in the morning. Just a silly little oneshot. Contains Slash.


**A/N:** Hi you who have wandered here! This is my first fanfic ever. Also, English is not my first language. That's why constructive criticism is highly apprechiated, I want to get better at writing after all! Reviews are very welcome :)

This story is just a silly little oneshot I had in my head for a while, and I'm afraid that both characters are a bit OOC at times ^^'.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the plot.

Warning: This story contains slash. Don't like? Well then, don't read.

**Edit (7/29/12):** Fixed some mistakes. A big thank you goes to **Palmer Blu** for beta'ing! And to all of the people who reviewed and faved this story. Thanks a lot!

Derek's_ thoughts _are in italics

Enjoy!

* * *

Derek woke up feeling groggy.

Or to be more precise he felt as if he'd been swallowed by a spinner-washer, spit and wrung out and hung up headfirst on a clothes line.

Well, maybe he wasn't hanging anywhere.

It felt as if he were lying. Which was definitely better than hanging. Not that he had ever hung from a clothes line in his life, of course.

_Okay, concentrate, Derek!_

God, that throbbing pain in his head didn't make this any easier. Now, back to waking up. So, lying. On something rather soft than hard, so he couldn't be lying on the floor. Eyes next. _Opening them would be a great start, Derek. Now, that's a lot better. Let's see…_

His own home. Check.

Very good, meaning he wasn't at some lady's house and wouldn't have to sneak away with that monster headache of his.

All clothes on. Check.

_Phew._

Couch. Check.

Good for his back.

Dead weight on the left side of his body. Check.

_Um, what…?_

His own arms wound tight around said weight. Check…

_Oh shit._

_What the hell happened last night?_ Better see who exactly it is that's lying draped over his left side, one arm over his stomach, head on his chest…. Um, skinny, light brown mop of hair. Who had he been with again?

A tough week, wanting some company and inviting someone for a movie and some beers. Right after spending half of the night at a club with his friends. Not so smart, he realized now. One beer too many. Shit, shit, shit. It couldn't be, could it? Taking a deep breath Derek glanced down. And instantly wished he hadn't.

_Oh __**god**__. No, no, no, no. Damn. __**Shit**__. God, how could this even have happened? __**I'm dead**__. So, so dead._

_Then again, I still have all my clothes on, so not that much could have happened, right? __**Right?**_

_How am I supposed to explain this? Okay, deep breaths, Derek, that's right, calm down. Breathe in. And out. In. Out. Now, what to do? The other is still asleep. Thank God. I have to get out of here! But how? Not to mention that this is __my __house._ Well, if he tried to slowly untangle himself the other would wake up. That left only one other option.

_Seriously Derek?_

But there was nothing else he could do. He now remembered most of what had happened last night, and if the other ever found out – which Derek really hoped wouldn't happen – he'd never hear the end of it. Not to mention that he would lose one of his most important friendships. That was something he couldn't even bear to think of. So. Plan B. And Derek did the only thing his not-yet-fully-functioning brain could come up with. He rolled over.

And dumped them both on the floor.

Derek hurried to untangle himself from the other, who had yet to wake. _Huh. One would think someone would wake up from falling from a comfortable couch to the floor. Nope, nothing. Thank god._ Nevertheless, the other was still resting in a rather uncomfortable looking position on the floor. Derek didn't want to leave them there. That's why he gently picked the other up and laid them back on the couch. A small movement of the other's eyelids was all he got in reaction.

_Oh well, better this way_. It took a while of only standing there before he noticed how rumpled he looked. At least his thoughts had calmed down a little, so Derek only heaved a small sigh and strode off to his bedroom.

Emerging in fresh clothes he went into the living room again and checked on his guest, who was still sound asleep. _Cute. Maybe coffee…? Would do us both some good._ Ever mindful of the others fondness of very sugary coffee, Derek started to prepare the hot beverage for both of them. He had picked up on some things after working with the other for nearly 5 years.

And it wasn't that he disliked the other's company. No, he rather enjoyed it. Too much. After some time he had started to want other things, too. Things he didn't look for when he went to a club and picked up one of the pretty ladies there for yet another one-night-stand. His guest didn't know. _Couldn't _know, no, not ever.

Garcia knew of course. But Garcia knew _everything_. That and she was one of his best friends after all. It had felt good to talk about it, as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. Garcia had stood true to her promise, too, she hadn't told anyone. What Derek was extremely grateful for.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the team – he trusted them with his _life_ time and time again – he was afraid of their reaction. Not to mention the object of his affections.

God, he sounded awfully sappy. Derek Morgan was not sappy. A romantic deep inside maybe, but definitely not sappy. He-

"Derek?" Oh. That was his name.

"I smelt coffee and figured you'd be in the kitchen." He could only stare dumbly at the sight before him. Wrinkled clothes, disheveled hair. Full lips. Innocent look in his eyes. "Is everything alright?" Did he remember? "Derek…?" And if he did, what would he do? Derek was afraid. He frowned. But, maybe he didn't remember it? "…Look, if it's about last night, what happened between us…" So he didn't forget. Damn it. Should they just agree to forget it? No, Derek couldn't, now that he'd gotten a taste –

"I-I understand if you just want to forget it, you were drunk a-after all. B-but, you know, I..."

– Them sitting on the couch, drinking, laughing at the TV, Derek draping his arm on the couch behind him, leaning closer –

"I can't. I have something to tell you, even… even though I know you'll kick me out of your house and never speak to me again-"

– closer, and closer, until finally. Lips meeting. A sweet kiss. Definitely not their last kiss that night. What had started innocent had soon developed into a full-grown snogging session. Until he just passed out. Damn alcohol. –

"I have felt this way for years, and when you kissed me last night I hoped-" Wait, _what_? Was he about to say what Derek thought he was?

"I am in love with you."

"You-_what_?" was his not so intelligent reply. He couldn't comprehend the words, even thought he'd misheard. But why would he-

"I-I'm sorry, I, uh, I'm going to go, sorry to, uh, to have b-bothered you with this…" Sad eyes shifting away, already glistening with unshed tears. Derek still wasn't able to say something, he was so lost in thought that he nearly didn't notice the other leaving the room.

_Why does he think he's bothered me with his confession? I have waited to hear those words leave his mouth for such a long time…._

_Oh wait, I haven't told him that! Shit, he's nearly at the door. Stupid, stupid Derek!_

_Of course he'd feel rejected with you just staring dumbly and saying nothing! You know how socially awkward that kid is, damn it! Hurry!_

"Wait! Spencer!"

He didn't turn around. Only when Derek put a hand on his shoulder Spencer stopped. "What is it?" His voice sounded hoarse. Derek stepped in front of him and enveloped him in a bone-crushing embrace. "How long?" There wasn't anything to misunderstand about this question. Spencer didn't try to.

"Superficial attraction since the day we met, _love _since I realized that you are nothing like the jocks I know from high-school but so much more, making it exactly 4 years, 145 days, 9 hours and 7 minutes or 1606 days and-"

The best way to silence the rambling genius – he had already figured that out yesterday evening – is to simply kiss him. It worked, of course. They broke apart after a while. "I'm sorry. That I didn't say anything I mean. But I was afraid… Don't look at me like that, am I not allowed to be afraid…? No…? Anyway. What I really wanted to say is: I love you, too."

Derek smiled at him. Spencer had put his arms around him during their kiss. After that declaration he practically beamed. Some kissing later Derek dragged him back into the kitchen. "Now, what about breakfast, pretty boy?" "Coffee… and do you have chocolate muffins?", the genius asked, smirking. "Didn't know you could be so bold, Spencer!" Both shared a laugh at that.

_What a wonderful sound his laugh is..._

When Derek put an arm around Spencer's shoulders again he leaned against him. Derek sighed happily. This was heaven. He - Spencer, the resident genius, youngest member of their team - , he was his. _Finally. I didn't even dare to think about this. Um, ok, one (day)dream here and there…_

_I was sure that it wouldn't happen though, that's the point. But it did! Wait, this isn't another dream, is it?_ "Spence, pinch me." "What? Why?" "Just do it!" "Ok, if you say so-"

"OUCH! You didn't have to do it so hard!" "But you said-" "Doesn't matter anymore, it's alright now. This isn't a dream…" _Which meant it is really happening… Smart, Derek, real smart._ "Oh, I see! This was this whole 'Pinch me, I think I'm dreaming'-thing, right? Speaking of dreams, I had a really weird one, I was dreaming of falling down a cliff and it was really weird because it felt so _real_ and…"

~The End~


End file.
